


A Soldier's Luck

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alpha John, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Anal Sex, Bar Room Brawl, Bonding, Bottom Sherlock Holmes, Developing Relationship, Domestic, First Time, Fluff and Smut, John in Afghanistan, Love at First Sight, M/M, Mating, Mating Bond, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Omega Sherlock, Omega Verse, One Night Stands, Protective John, Rimming, Scars, Scarves, Scenting, Top John, Top John Watson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-19
Updated: 2015-03-19
Packaged: 2018-03-18 15:03:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3574094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When John meets Sherlock just before deploying, he thinks he'll never see him again. Turns out a soldier's luck is greater than that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Soldier's Luck

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hermioneinthetardisin221b (DaniTomlinson)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaniTomlinson/gifts).



John first met the dark haired omega that would change his life a few days before shipping out for Afghanistan. He was in a pub, enjoying the last of his time off, when he caught sight of an argument out of the corner of his eye. Something felt off, and never one to simply stand by, he stood and made his way over. The dark haired omega was talking to a mated pair, and the alpha looked ready to clock him. John managed to get between them. “What’s going on?”

“This wanker says I’m cheating on ’im,” growled the alpha, gesturing at his mate.

“But you are,” insisted the omega. “It’s obvious by your shoes.”

“By my shoes?” the alpha snorted

“Yes, you have mud on one side that’s from the opposite side of London from where you work and where you and your mate live.” He looked at the other omega. “He’d been taking a lot of long lunches, hasn’t he? Working late?”

He nodded, looking at his mate. “I already suspected.”

“Well, of course you did,” said the dark-haired one. “You simply asked me because you wanted to be sure. When it comes to cheating mates you should generally trust your instincts.”

“Now listen here,” the alpha shoved John out of the way and snatched the front of the omega’s shirt, tossing him up against the wall.

“Hey!” growled John, getting to his feet.

“Stay out of this, soldier,” snarled the other alpha, moving towards where the dark-haired one was struggling to his feet.

“As if.” John shoved him back, feeling strangely protective of the omega.

The other alpha looked about to swing, but the bouncers were already there, pulling him off. His mate had vanished in the crowd. John turned to the dark-haired omega and steadied him. “Hey there, you alright?” His fingers slipped into the tangle of hair, making sure there wasn’t a cut on the back of his head.

“You’re a doctor,” said the omega. He blinked at him. “And a soldier. About to deploy. Why did you step in?”

John gave him a smile and looped one long arm around his shoulders to help him out. “You always do that?” he smiled. “Anyway, looked like you could use some help there, that’s all. John Watson.”

“Sherlock Holmes.” 

They were into the back alley now. “Let me get you a cab,” said John.

“I’ll get one,” Sherlock carefully pulled away from him. John found he missed the feel and the scent. That was crazy, they’d only met a few moments ago, and he was shipping out in two days.

“If you’re sure,” said John, wanting to get to know this omega, but there was the feeling that time was slipping from his hands.

“Quite.” Sherlock turned to look at him, studying his features. “Perhaps we’ll meet again one day, John Watson. Try not to get shot.”

“Will do,” smiled John. He watched Sherlock turn the corner, then, making up his mind, chased after him. “Sherlock!”

The omega turned an looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“Listen, can I at least, I dunno, buy you a drink or something? No strings attached of course. I leave in two days.” John looked up at the taller omega, watching the pale eyes under the harsh streetlights.

Sherlock met his gaze and studied him for a moment. “Come back to mine,” he said, raising his hand. A cab appeared in moments, as if summoned by a wizard.

John smiled and followed him into the cab. There was something he couldn’t name in the omega’s scent, like a hint of danger or a dark summers night. Sherlock spent the ride mostly looking out the window. John watched the streetlights of London reflect off his pale skin.

Finally they arrived in front of a slightly run down block of flats. John paid the cabbie. Sherlock led the way inside. “I don’t normally do this,” he said, unlocking his door.

“Take home strange alphas? I believe you.” He watched Sherlock pull his scarf from his neck and shrug off his coat. “That thing you did, with the shoes? That was brilliant.”

Sherlock paused. “You think so?”

“Yes, definitely.” John smiled and slipped his own coat off.

“Not what most people say,” said Sherlock, turning and stalking towards the smaller alpha. John’s breath caught in his throat. “No strings attached?” asked Sherlock.

“Just tonight,” promised John, reaching up to cup his face, running his thumb along Sherlock’s jaw before drawing him in for a kiss.

Sherlock moaned softly against his lips. John could feel the moment of hesitation, then the surrender. John pressed him against the wall, kissing him deeper, tongue sliding past willing lips, the scent of desire growing thick in the air.

He broke the kiss to nip at Sherlock’s throat, careful not to mark, though he laved his tongue over the bonding place, feeling a shiver run through the omega’s body. “Shall we take this to the bedroom?” asked John huskily.

“Yes,” whispered Sherlock, taking his hand as John pulled away and leading him down the short hall. The room was a bit neater than the rest of the flat, but John didn’t really care at this point, undressing the omega with confident fingers until he lay him naked on the bed.

“You’re gorgeous,” whispered John, shedding his own clothes before crawling between his lover’s knees. He cupped Sherlock’s hips and ran his thumb along bone, wondering, for a heartbeat, what he would look like pregnant.

 _Ridiculous thoughts._ This was a one night stand. They’d never see each other again after tonight. He leaned down and nosed the dark patch of hair, breathing in more of that mysterious scent, memorizing it, before licking his tongue slowly up Sherlock’s cock.

“John,” he moaned, and the alpha had never heard his name so beautiful from anyone else's lips. From Sherlock, it wasn’t ordinary. It was prayer.

“I’m right here,” said John, kissing his thigh before turning back to his trousers to retrieve a condom. When he turned back, Sherlock was watching him with wide eyes, offering a tube of lube. 

John took it and leaned over him, snogging him again thoroughly, bracing himself with one hand, the other getting the lube open. He broke the kiss to coat his fingers, reaching between the pale thighs to stroke Sherlock’s entrance.

Sherlock moaned against him, long fingers tracing patterns down his back. John could feel the omega’s own natural slick, thicker than the artificial stuff. He raised his head and watched Sherlock’s face as he pressed two fingers inside.

The omega’s head dropped to the pillow and he grabbed the headboard as he arched against John’s fingers. He moaned, eyes squeezing shut, legs spreading wider in invitation. “Gorgeous,” repeated John, planting a kiss on Sherlock’s breastbone, easily fingering him open.

“Please,” whispered Sherlock, forcing his eyes open again. “Need you.”

John smiled and moved up to kiss him again, adding a third finger The lazy kisses contrasted with the quick movement of his hand. Sherlock’s breath came in short pants. John rutted against Sherlock’s leg, leaving a trail of precome on his skin.

“You’re going to take me so pretty, I know that,” said John, raising his head and withdrawing his fingers to Sherlock’s soft whimper. He quickly rolled on the condom and slicked himself, pressing against the omega’s entrance. Sherlock wrapped his arms around his neck and legs around his waist, encouraging him.

John thrust carefully, knowing he was on the large side, even for an alpha. Sherlock gasped and clutched at him, encouragement falling from his lips. John kissed him again, swallowing his tiny cries as he thrust deeper and deeper. Finally he was all in, save his barely inflated knot, groaning and panting at the tight omega around him. Raising his head slightly, he looked down at their bodies joined together. Sherlock rested his forehead against John’s, damp curls falling into his eyes.

“Move, John,” he whispered, nearly whining.

John smiled and raised his head, kissing his lover’s brow as he started thrusting, feeling Sherlock’s body grasping at his, the natural slick easing the way, even with the condom. The room filled with smells of lust and desire and that specific scent of Sherlock’s that he knew now for certain would be seared on his memory. 

Lowering his head again, John nuzzled Sherlock’s throat, nipping again and licking until Sherlock offered it to him, body shaking underneath the alpha’s onslaught. “So good,” muttered John, teeth barely grazing the flesh, resisting the instincts that told him to bite and claim. Sherlock seemed remarkably trusting; most omegas he’d slept with were very mindful of their throats, prey instincts strong in them. But none of them had meant... whatever this seemed to mean.

 _One night_ , he reminded himself. He went back to kiss-swollen lips, moving a little faster now, one hand slipping down to take the omega in hand. Sherlock gasped at his touch, trying to rock into his hand wildly, but still at the mercy of John’s steady thrusts. “Relax, Sherlock,” muttered John. “I have you.”

And Sherlock did. The omega took a breath and then relaxed, giving himself over to John’s cock, John’s hand, John’s lips on his own. It was beautiful. It was perfect

Only a few more thrusts and they came together, groaning against one another. Sherlock clung to John, body shaking. John smoothed a hand down the omega’s side, calming him, letting the aftershocks rock them both, hearts beating in time. Finally, John carefully pulled out, Sherlock whimpering again at the loss. The alpha rolled onto his side, kissing Sherlock’s hip before getting up and padding to the en suite with the partially open door. 

John took a few deep breaths and binned the condom. He got a warm rag and went back to Sherlock. The omega was already drifting towards sleep and John smiled softly as he cleaned him up. He kissed Sherlock’s knee and hesitated. He should leave. One night stand and all. But Sherlock’s hand reached out on the bed as if searching for something. John tossed the rag aside and lay down next to him. The questing hand wrapped in his own and the omega sighed contentedly, snuggling against him. John kissed the top of that dark mop of hair and held him close, wondering how hard it would be to leave in the morning.

**

The morning light woke him early. John blinked, taking a few seconds to remember where he was. Sherlock still lay curled up on his side, long legs tangled in his own. John sighed and kissed his throat, where a bond mark might one day be, before carefully untangling himself and slipping out of bed. He hoped Sherlock would find a good alpha one day. Someone that would take care of him, but also give him the freedom to be who he was.

He had just pulled his shirt over his head when he heard Sherlock move. Pulling it down, he found Sherlock sitting up, watching him. There was a sense of innocence in the way he held the sheet over his lap, not speaking, just watching. John leaned over to collect his shoes and walked to him, kissing him softly. “Thank you,” he said quietly, turning for the front room before he could change his mind.

John perched on the edge of the sofa to tie his shoes, trying not to think too much, breathing in the lingering scent of their lovemaking. Sherlock stepped out, wrapped only in the sheet. John gave him a smile and stood to go. There was a heartbeat of hesitation, then Sherlock moved over to where his coat and scarf hung on the wall. He pulled his scarf free and held it out to John. “An offering. A token for a brave soldier. May you return home safely.”

Smiling softly, John stepped to him and took it, resisting the urge to scent it, at least until he was out the door. “I’ll do my best,” he said, blushing slightly.

Sherlock leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “I don’t ordinarily believe in luck, but perhaps in this case, I will hope that it brings you such.”

“I’m a soldier. Sometimes luck is all we have. Who knows, maybe one day we might meet again.” John touched his hand.

“Neither of us can predict the future, John.” Sherlock stepped back. “Good morning, and goodbye.”

“Take care of yourself,” said John, and he stepped out the door before he could change his mind.

**

John Watson left for Afghanistan right on schedule. Wrapped up in his pack was the dark blue scarf. He was busy, always, but sometimes in the night he would dream of pale eyes and dark hair. He found that the scarf could be folded up and tucked in a pocket underneath his body armor, and even as it lost it’s scent, it was comforting to have. Mad, perhaps, to pine for an omega he’d never have, but he’d never forget the man and it was the one reminder of home he was glad to have in the hue and cry of a warzone.

As it turned out, the scarf did bring luck, of some degree. John was moving between wounded soldiers one bright afternoon when a bullet found him, slipping under his armor and going through his shoulder. He fell, stunned more than in pain, at least at first. One of his other soldiers grabbed him and rolled him onto his back, getting his armor open. The scarf slipped from his pocket and the soldier grabbed it, trying to staunch the blood.

After that, things were hazy for a while. Eventually John found himself in a military hospital, the now bloodstained scarf tucked next to him; evidently someone knew it was important to him. He followed doctor’s orders, did his physical therapy and finally found himself back in London, leaning on a cane and wondering what, exactly, he’d do from here.

**

John was sitting in the park with an old friend, sipping a coffee, catching up. “Who’d want me for a flatmate,” he said, looking out into the distance.

“Funny, you’re the second person to say that to me today.”

So John followed him, figuring he’d have nothing to lose. He thought nothing particular of it until he stepped into the lab and caught a scent, even before he saw the figure leaning over a microscope. “Sherlock,” he breathed.

The omega’s head snapped up and he stared at John. Their friend looked between them before wisely backing out of the room. John made his way over, taking in the man he never thought he’d see again. “I see you didn’t manage to avoid getting shot,” said Sherlock

“No, I didn’t. But you did bring me luck.” John pulled the worn scarf out of his pocket. Sherlock’s eyes widened at the bloodstains. “It’s all right. Much better now. Well, save the limp and a bit of nerve damage. And I don’t really know what to do now.”

“Mike brought you here because you needed a flatmate. The offer still stands.” Sherlock searched his face.

John almost felt like the last year and half had never happened; that the war had been only a bad dream. But his shoulder ached and his knee twinged, reminding him that time had indeed passed. As he looked into Sherlock’s eyes he could see that the desire lingered. The once familiar scent in the air felt like home. He swallowed. “How does that look, though, an alpha and an omega living together?”

“It means nothing at all if they’re mated,” said Sherlock matter-of-factly.

“Quite right,” said John, smiling and taking his hand, pulling the omega down so that he could properly scent him. John nosed his skin, finding it was a relief to breathe in that peculiar combination after so long without it. He angled his head so Sherlock could scent him in return. “I dreamt of you,” he confessed.

Sherlock’s breath was hot against his throat as he returned the scenting. “I did the same,” admitted Sherlock. “I believe I said I did not believe in luck. However, it does appear the universe is trying to tell us something.”

“I’d say so. Same flat as before?”

“No, this ones bigger. I’m still doing the consulting work. You could no doubt get a job as a doctor. I’ll do what I can to help you.” Sherlock bit his lip as he watched him.

John leaned up to kiss him. “We’ll sort it out. May I bond you, Sherlock Holmes?”

“Please,” said Sherlock, the slightest crack to his voice.

John’s grin turned a bit more predatory. “I think you should show me to this flat of yours.”

Sherlock shivered and nodded, leading the way out.

**

The flat was indeed nicer than the one before, though still just as messy. Sherlock said he was getting a deal from the landlady, flitting about, clearly a bit nervous as he made a vain effort to straighten. John caught his hand. “It’s fine, Sherlock. It really is.” He leaned in to scent him again, this time running his teeth along where his mark would go. “Please, Sherlock, I’ve waited more than a year for this. For you.”

Sherlock gave an undignified moan. “There’s been no one else, John.”

“Good. Bedroom this way?” He led the way, still holding tightly to Sherlock’s hand.

Sherlock had a bigger bed these days. John kissed him again, carefully undressing him like he’d done before. Sherlock reached for his jumper. Hesitating, John put his hands over Sherlock’s. “There’s... a scar.”

“Well, I believe that’s a typical consequence of getting shot,” said Sherlock with a slight smile. “I don’t mind, John.”

John visibly relaxed. “Okay. Good. I just... I haven’t let anyone see me since the hospital.”

Sherlock leaned in and kissed his shoulder above the scar, then pulled the jumper over his head, mindful of the slight limit to his movement in that arm, then lifted his undershirt. John bit his lip and stood there in his jeans, watching Sherlock’s face.

“Did it hurt?” asked Sherlock quietly, touching his shoulder and running his thumb over the ridges of skin.

“Not at the time, no. I went into shock pretty quick. One of my soldiers found the scarf and used it to staunch the wound. Hurt worse later, at the hospital.” John put his hand over Sherlock’s.

Sherlock leaned down to kiss his lips. “I’m glad it wasn’t fatal.”

“Me too. Your scarf might have saved my life you know.”

“Soldier’s luck,” smiled Sherlock, leaning down to kiss above the scar.

John tangled his hands in Sherlock’s hair as his mouth lingered on his shoulder, smiling down at him. Sherlock raised his head and John kissed him before gently pushing him back onto the bed. He shimmied out of his jeans and pants and crawled in after him, kissing him again.

“I’m actually due for a heat in the next day or so,” said Sherlock suddenly.

John pulled back and looked at him. “Do you want to wait for your heat to bond?”

Sherlock shook his head. “No. I want you now.” He dropped a hand down between his thighs and brought back up a finger glistening with slick. John leaned in to suck it clean, watching him. “But...I don’t want to use protection.”

John pulled his head back and frowned. “The odds of getting pregnant when you aren’t in heat are low, but when you’re in...” He watched Sherlock’s face. “Are you sure? I mean really this is pretty fast. We barely know each other...”

“Do you not wish to bond?” Sherlock frowned in turn.

“Of course I do. But children?” Sherlock started to pull away from him. John caught his hand. “Hey. I would love for you to bear my pups. I just want to make sure we’re doing right by them. I mean, I don’t even have a job.”

“You’ll get one. And you can help me with mine.” Sherlock’s voice was full of confidence.

John leaned in and kissed him. “Okay, Sherlock. There’s no one else I want.”

The brightness in Sherlock’s eyes made John chuckle. He pressed Sherlock onto his back. “For right now, I’m going to take you and claim you and no one will ever keep us apart, ever again.”

“Good,” said Sherlock, smiling up at him and wrapping his arms around his neck.

John reached into the nightstand and came up with a bottle of lube. He kept his eyes on Sherlock as he slicked his fingers. This felt much more deliberate than the first time, more certain. There had been no one for him either, not since that night, and he wanted no one else. “I never thought I’d see you again,” he admitted.

“I feared the same,” said Sherlock. “And there were times I thought I caught your scent...when I smelled you come in today, I thought I was imagining again.”

“Well, I’m really here,” said John with a smile, pressing his fingers inside. 

Sherlock moaned and opened himself wider for the alpha. John prepared him quickly, not wanting to wait, wanting to his soon-to-be mate around him. He pressed up Sherlock’s knees, watching his face as he started to press inside.

“More,” Sherlock panted. “Claim me, John.”

Groaning, John thrust harder, deeper with every stroke. Sherlock gave soft cries, holding onto his arms, giving himself wholly over. “I can’t wait to knot you,” growled John. “Fill you with my seed, watch you swell with our child.”

“Please,” whispered Sherlock, pulling him down for a greedy kiss, laving the inside of his mouth. 

John grabbed a handful of hair and pulled Sherlock’s head back, attacking his throat, licking and sucking, marking, covering him with his scent. The air was full of heat and desire and passion. Sweat trickled down John’s back to pool at the base of his spine.

“Mine, Sherlock. You’re all mine.” John thrust harder, wishing he could knot him already, but knowing that was near impossible outside of heat. He nibbled Sherlock’s earlobe and whispered hotly in his ear. “I dreamed of claiming you,” he said. “Dreamed of pinning you down and making my mark on you, taking what we both wanted.”

Sherlock cried out, beyond words. John shifted his hips and Sherlock came untouched between them, scratching down John’s back, shaking with the force of it. Dropping his head. John gave two more thrusts and came, biting down at the same time. Sherlock orgasmaed all over again, tripping on the heels of the first.

It took John a few moments to realize that the guttural growl was coming from himself. He slowly released his teeth, looking first at the mark he’d made, then at Sherlock’s face. The omega’s eyes were screwed tightly shut. “Sherlock?” he asked, voice hoarse as he reached up to cup his cheek.

Sherlock opened his eyes slowly, pale eyes blown nearly black, tears pooling in the corners. “John. My alpha. John.”

Relieved. John kissed him, then leaned back in to lick the mark. He could already smell the way Sherlock’s scent was changing. He gathered his lover in his arms. His mate. “My beautiful omega.”

John nuzzled his neck and carefully pulled out. Sherlock curled around his chest, making soft noises of pleasure as John stroked his back. In no time at all, John started to drift off, not even minding the mess.

**

When John woke next, there was a definite change in the scent of the room. He opened his eyes to find Sherlock watching him. 

“My heat started,” Sherlock said, licking his lips.

“Good,” said John, rolling on top of him. “I’m going to fuck you and knot you and maybe even bite you again.”

Sherlock moaned and rutted up against him. “I want your pups.”

“You’ll have them,” promised John, backing up and rolling Sherlock over so he was on his stomach, cock already hard in response to the pheromones in the room. He tucked a pillow under Sherlock’s hips and nudged his knees apart. John dropped his head and spread Sherlock’s cheeks, licking up a stripe of slick. Sherlock cried out. The omega tasted amazing on his tongue and John wanted nothing more than to devour him. Sherlock cried out and writhed against the pillow, producing more slick as John tongued him, tasting bits of himself from earlier.

“John, _please_ ,” cried Sherlock, trembling with desire. Pulling back, John wiped his mouth, covering Sherlock with his body as he pushed inside, finding his omega still slick and open from before, on top of his heat.

Sherlock cried out again, pushing back against him. John pinned his wrists, thrusting into him wildly, giving himself over to his baser instincts. He could feel his knot, fully swollen now, bumping up against Sherlock’s rim. Sherlock braced himself and John pulled nearly all the way out, only shove back in, his knot popping inside. Sherlock howled with pleasure as he came, clamping down around him. John swore and bit down, coming right after, worrying his omega’s flesh in his teeth as he pumped him full.

Sherlock moaned underneath him. John slowly released his bite, licking the mark and maneuvering them onto their sides. “You’re mine,” he said softly, running a hand through his hair. “And I will always take care of you and our pups.”

With a soft noise, Sherlock nestled back against him, kissing John’s other hand. Smiling softly, John knew that everything would be okay.

**

The next several weeks were a matter of getting used to one another and settling into their new life together. John found work at a local clinic, Sherlock introduced him to the police officers he worked with and the sort of cases he dealt with. It was no wonder he always smelled faintly of danger. John knew that being pregnant probably wouldn’t slow him down much, at least at first, but once it was confirmed he asked Sherlock to please be at least a _little_ more careful. 

The officers were shocked that Sherlock had mated with anyone, but they welcomed John in, especially as he could act as a middleman between them and the reckless omega. And Sherlock did try to be a bit more careful once the pregnancy was confirmed, but then again, this was the same omega he’d met in a bar about get in a fight with a much bigger alpha. John just tried to make sure he wasn’t doing anything that might harm their child.

As his belly began to swell, Sherlock did slow down. He complained more, made ridiculous food requests, and occasionally showed up at John’s workplace just to whine. John found it mostly adorable, and the times he didn’t, well, lifting Sherlock’s shirt and running his hand along his belly, feeling their child, made it all worthwhile.

One evening, John came home with takeaway to find Sherlock stretched out on the sofa. John smiled at him. “Are you.... knitting?”

Sherlock frowned. “This seems to be an activity that it is expected of new mothers. It shouldn’t be this difficult.”

John put the food down and came to sit next to him. “Used to do a bit when I was in hospital. Something to do with my time. Let me see.”

Sherlock handed over the slightly tangled mess. John straightened it and patiently walked him through it, watching the deft fingers get the hang of working the yarn and needles. “There you go. You’re a genius, you’ll be good at it no time.”

With a soft sigh, Sherlock put it down. “Why are you so patient with me?”

John raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I can think of a few reasons.”

“Enumerate.” Sherlock watched him closely.

John met his gaze. “One: you’re the most amazing man I’ve ever met. Two: you are who you are and I would never change that. Three: you’re the mother of our children. Four: I love you.”

Sherlock blinked. “What was point four?”

“I love you, you git.” John chuckled and leaned in to kiss his neck, letting his hand fall on Sherlock’s swollen belly. “Even when you’re cranky and miserable and trying to give me a heart attack with the risks you take, I love you.” He slipped to his knees and started rubbing Sherlock’s swollen feet.

“I love you too,” said Sherlock softly, watching him.

“I know you do. Whether you say it aloud or not.” John kissed his knee. “And it’s been true since the night we met.”

“It has,” agreed Sherlock, reaching down to run a hand through his hair, smiling affectionately at him. “You’ll be a great father.”

“We’ll be great parents,” said John. “No matter how many we have.”

Sherlock groaned and leaned back on the sofa. “Let’s worry about the one we have now first?”

“Of course, love.” John knelt up and kissed his belly. “Come on, you need to eat. And sleep. You both have a checkup tomorrow.”

“I can’t get comfortable,” complained Sherlock. “He kicks.”

“Just means he’s feisty like you,” said John, dishing out the food.

Sherlock grumbled, but he took the plate and leaned back on the sofa again. John watched him out of the corner of his eye, so glad for the life he had, and the luck that had brought them together not once, but twice. And now they were mated and would soon have a family. A soldier’s luck indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> Fic Commission for Hermioneinthetardisin221b (DaniTomlinson)!
> 
> Much thanks to beltainefaerie for the beta.
> 
> You can find me at [merindab.tumblr.com.](http://merindab.tumblr.com/)


End file.
